Delta Force Die Hard

by Carol Ericson

  Joe tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Dr. Roberson ask about Ayala Khan.

  “I’ve heard great things about the work Ayala does at the refugee center near the Turkish border. Will she be here tonight, Hailey?”

  Hailey pinched the sleeve of Joe’s jacket. “Sh-she wasn’t able to make it.”

  Not done singing Ayala’s praises, Dr. Roberson turned to Dr. Karam-Thomas. “Have you met Ayala Khan, Nabil? She’s Syrian, too.”

  Karam-Thomas flashed his easy smile and held up his hands. “I can claim only half Syrian ancestry. I have not met Ms. Khan, but I’ve heard wonderful things about her. Maybe next time our paths will cross.”

  “Hailey—” Joe held up a finger “—I thought you said Dr. Karam-Thomas had visited the refugee center when you were working there. Wouldn’t he have met Ayala then?”

  Hailey’s body stiffened next to his.

  She obviously didn’t want to put a damper on the evening by announcing that one of the Syrian Florence Nightingales was fomenting terror and destruction, and he had no intention of outing her now. He just thought it strange that Karam-Thomas wouldn’t have remembered meeting Ayala. The guy was probably too much the superstar to remember all the underlings.

  “That’s right.” The doctor snapped the fingers of his left hand, and the red stone caught the light and glinted. “I did meet Ms. Khan on that visit—amazing nurse. Now, if you ladies and gentleman will excuse me, I’m going to press some flesh.”

  “That would be advisable.” Hailey swept her hand to the side as if to make a path for him.

  Joe watched Karam-Thomas’s ramrod-straight back as he melted into the glittering crowd, glad-handing and probably flashing that smile. “That’s weird.”

  “What?”

  “That he didn’t remember meeting Ayala.”

  “Why?” Hailey smiled and wiggled her fingers at Dr. Roberson and her companion as they moved away to mingle. “Why are you even bringing her up?”

  “I didn’t. Dr. Roberson did.”

  “But why call out Dr. Karam-Thomas like that? I don’t want her involvement in the bombing of the center to come out here, of all places.”

  “I’m sorry, Hailey. I just remembered that conversation we had with Ayala when you mentioned he was going to be the keynote speaker and thought it was odd he didn’t remember her.”

  “Not really.” She tipped her head toward the doctor, who was in the center of a group of adoring fans. “He’s a very popular and busy guy. Speaking of which, I need to make some opening remarks before the food and Nabil’s address.”

  Hailey’s speech seemed to go smoothly. Joe didn’t comprehend one word of it as he watched the crowd, his senses alert to every cough and scrape of a chair leg.

  The audience met Dr. Karam-Thomas’s speech with resounding applause, and Joe’s muscles relaxed—just a tad. The evening seemed to be progressing without a hitch...and without any attempts on Hailey’s life.

  The knots in Joe’s gut prevented him from enjoying or even eating much dinner. Hailey had wanted him up on that dais with her and the doctors and several Syrian dignitaries, but Joe felt more comfortable roaming the crowd.

  As dinner began to wind down and the coffee was served, a ruckus erupted at the entrance to the ballroom. Joe went on high alert, pushed off the wall where he’d been leaning and strode toward the noise.

  Two security guards held a struggling man between them—a man wearing a black porkpie hat with a checkered band.

  “Let me in. Tell Hailey Duvall who I am. She’ll know.”

  Agent Porter sidled up next to Joe. “I’ll be damned. It’s Marten de Becker.”

  Joe whistled. “And this is the venue he’s chosen for his reveal—public and safe.”

  Porter made a move. He badged the security guards. “Let him through. Ms. Duvall is going to want to see him, and even more, she’s going to want to hear what he has to say. We all do.”

  Security released de Becker, and he brushed off his clothes and tipped his hat at Joe when he sauntered by under Porter’s protective watch.

  Joe followed them up to the dais.

  When Hailey saw de Becker, she jumped up from her chair and lifted the skirt of her dress to jog down the steps to the ballroom floor. She threw her arms around him and whispered something in his ear.

  Joe clenched his jaw. She’d better be telling him to get up there and spill his guts once and for all.

  While the other notables on the dais continued eating their desserts and drinking their coffee, Dr. Karam-Thomas had eased out of his chair and headed toward the opposite side of the dais from where Hailey was still talking to de Becker...even though the doctor’s seat was steps away from them on the same side.

  Joe watched his descent from the stage through narrowed eyes. Karam-Thomas seemed to be in a hurry without trying to appear he was in a hurry—and that megawatt smile had disappeared.

  The doctor slipped one hand in his pocket—the right hand—and once again, Joe caught a glimpse of that unusual ring. The same ring Ayala wore on her left hand.

  Adrenaline surged through Joe’s body, and he lurched forward to follow Karam-Thomas as he wove his way through the tables, barely acknowledging his admirers as they reached out to him.

  Why did he have his hand bunched in his pocket? That small space couldn’t accommodate a gun—even a small one.

  Joe slipped his hand beneath his jacket to grip the handle of his own weapon as he continued to follow the doctor, who was completely unaware he had a tail.

  Joe planned to keep it that way. He circled around to the right, keeping Karam-Thomas in his sights.

  When Hailey’s voice boomed over the speaker system, the doctor tripped to a stop and cranked his head over his shoulder.

  “We have a surprise guest tonight, someone who worked in Syria with me, and he’d like to say a few words.”

  Karam-Thomas’s feet seemed rooted to the floor, his face a white oval as he listened to Hailey’s introduction of Marten de Becker. Then he lurched forward, not even trying to mask his hurried pace.

  Joe continued circling to the doctor’s right.

  Karam-Thomas pulled his hand from his pocket, and Joe focused on the way the doctor’s fingers curled around the device in his hand, his thumb positioned on the top of the item.

  Joe drew closer, and his heart slammed against his rib cage as he recognized a remote clutched in the doctor’s hand, his thumb pressing against the release.

  Joe knew those triggers. Once the doctor released his thumb, it would set off an explosive device. But where was the device? Was this a suicide mission for the doc? Did he have something strapped to his body?

  Hailey’s voice carried across the ballroom. “So, I’d like to turn over the microphone to my fellow aid worker in Syria, Marten de Becker.”

  Applause rippled through the ballroom as de Becker approached the podium.

  Licking his lips, Dr. Karam-Thomas glanced over his right shoulder. As Marten began his speech, the doctor lurched toward the exit, his hand wrapped around the remote.

  A deadly calm descended on Joe as he made his decision. In four long steps he reached the doctor’s side before he got to the exit door.

  With his left hand, Joe grabbed the doctor’s hand clutching the device and covered his thumb with his own, pressing down on the release with all his strength.

  Karam-Thomas bucked under the assault. He dipped his left hand in his pocket, and a knife flashed before a searing pain ran up Joe’s thigh.

  Gritting his teeth, Joe squeezed the doctor’s hand in a death grip, raised the gun to his temple and growled, “You’re not ruining this party.”

  Then he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The gunfire echoed in the ballroom...and in Joe’s ears. People screamed and ducked.

 
De Becker shouted into the mic, “Get down, get down.”

  Karam-Thomas jerked once and then his body slumped, heavy against Joe’s, his head falling to the side, blood running down his face and soaking Joe’s jacket. The doctor’s hand holding the remote began to slip from his, and Joe crushed the dead man’s fingers, repositioning his thumb over Karam-Thomas’s.

  As a security guard rushed him, Joe dropped his gun and wrapped his arm around the doctor’s chest. He could either prop him up in a macabre dance or hit the ground with him. Then he had no choice. As Karam-Thomas slipped to the floor, Joe had to go with him, every ounce of his energy focused on covering the doctor’s thumb with his own.

  He fell on top of the body. A gun clicked in his ear, and a boot kicked him in the back. “Get off him. Roll over.”

  “Can’t do that.” A bead of sweat rolled down Joe’s face and hung off his chin. He raised his arm, his hand still engulfing Karam-Thomas’s and the remote, his thumb going numb with the pressure. “Once this trigger is released, something’s gonna blow—I don’t know where it is or what it is, but this death switch is the key. Get everyone out of here. Find FBI agent Porter and evacuate. Now.”

  Another security agent joined the first one. “I know who Agent Porter is. I’ll get him, but keep your weapon trained on him. We don’t know what’s going on.”

  People began streaming past Joe and the dead man beneath him, giving them a wide berth. Blood covered the front of his shirt, and the leg of his trouser sported a rip from the knife Karam-Thomas had swung at him. Tony would never forgive him.

  He shouted to the security guard, “Direct these people to the other exits, for God’s sake. They don’t need to see this.”

  Seconds later, Hailey crouched beside him, the hem of her sparkly dress brushing the pool of blood on the floor. “Oh my God, Joe. What happened? You’re not telling me Nabil planted a bomb in the ballroom. How did you know what he was planning?”

  “His ring. Look at his ring, Hailey. It’s the same one Ayala had. They’re a couple. He probably recruited her. Hell, they might even be married, for all we know.”

  Hailey choked and then scrambled to her feet. Was she overwhelmed by guilt and remorse for trusting those two? For inviting Dr. Karam-Thomas into this world? She had to stop doing that to herself. People took advantage of her because she had a kind and giving heart—he hoped she’d never change.

  Less than a minute later, Hailey returned with several white napkins from the tables. She pressed them against the wound on his thigh. “Your leg is bleeding. How long are you going to have to hold down that button?”

  “As long as it takes.” Porter loomed above them. “Good work, McVie. How long can you hold on? The bomb squad is on its way.”

  “Like you said, Porter. As long as it takes.”

  De Becker joined the crowd encircling Joe and Karam-Thomas’s inert form. “Damn, I didn’t even get to talk.”

  Joe growled low in his throat. “This is your fault, de Becker. Why did you lie about Major Denver in the first place?”

  “Money and intrigue.” De Becker straightened his hat. “Money first, I’ll admit, but I was able to draw out the terrorist group behind the bombing and behind the setup of Denver. Isn’t that worth something to you?”

  “Not as much as Hailey’s life.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him—dead guy and all.

  Ten minutes later the ballroom had been cleared and the bomb squad arrived with explosive-sniffing dogs.

  A member of the team leaned over Joe and slid a device between the doctor’s thumb and the remote to keep the trigger in place. “You can release now, buddy. Amazing job.”

  Joe rolled onto his back, shook out his hand and flexed his fingers. “Why didn’t I have one of those?”

  Hailey crouched beside him and waved her arm in the air. “Hey, did someone bother to call an ambulance? Joe’s been stabbed in the leg.”

  “It’s nothing. He barely got me.”

  Porter said, “Police and EMTs are out front. A few people got hurt in the scramble to get out of here, and they’re being treated at a triage center away from the hotel. The entire hotel is being evacuated.”

  One of the German shepherds started barking furiously at the front of the ballroom.

  “We got a hit. Let’s move these people out of here.”

  Agent Porter and Hailey helped Joe to his feet, and he limped out of the ballroom between them. They moved toward the curved staircase that led from the lobby to the ballroom.

  When Joe spotted de Becker on the top step, his blood boiled all over again. He had put everyone’s life in danger playing his stupid spy games.

  A woman stepped up beside de Becker, and Joe stumbled to a halt as Hailey gasped.

  “Ayala!”

  “What have you done? What have you done with Nabil?” The gun she held to Marten’s head trembled in her hand.

  “It’s over, Ayala.” Joe struggled forward as both Hailey and Porter held him back. “Nabil’s dead. The bomb squad has located the explosive device. Your plan failed.”

  Her dark eyes flashed. “It’s not over. We have more people than you can even dream of for our cause. People you trust.”

  “But not Major Denver. You lied about him. You lied about his presence at the kidnapping. Why? Why him?”

  Ayala laughed. “You’re wrong. We do have Major Denver.”

  De Becker took a step away from Ayala. “That’s not true. I was paid to lie about hearing Denver there and then threatened when I decided to tell the truth.”

  “You don’t know anything, Marten.”

  Ayala’s weapon had slipped an inch or two, and Joe nudged Porter.

  “Our cause will continue with the help of people like Denver...and others.”

  “What is your cause, Ayala?” Hailey reached out a hand. “I thought we shared the same cause—to help innocents affected by war.”

  “Short-term casualties for a long-term goal, Hailey. You will never understand our goal.”

  “Try me.” Hailey edged away from Joe toward Ayala as he made a grab for her hand.

  Now was not the time for philanthropy.

  “And you will never understand our commitment to it.” She cried out, “Nabil!”

  Then she turned the gun on herself.

  Epilogue

  Hailey joined Joe at the window, curled her arms around his waist and drank in the view of the San Francisco Bay. “It’s a beautiful day for January.”

  “It might be sunny, but it’s still cold.” He twisted his head over his shoulder and kissed her mouth. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t, Red. We’ve been in bed for the past two days while it’s been cloudy and raining.” She patted his bandaged thigh. “Time to stretch out that leg.”

  “You’re a stern taskmaster. I just took down a terrorist, shooting him in the head and hanging on to that detonator for dear life as he fell to the floor.” He wove his fingers through hers. “Don’t I deserve a break?”

  “You’re lucky that was a detonator in Nabil’s hand and not a remote control for the projector.”

  “I had it and him all figured out by the time I took him down. When I recognized that ring, I knew he was the one who recruited Ayala at that symposium in Florida. They were lovers, shared the same ring, shared the same passion—a passion for destruction.”

  “Agent Porter showed me video footage from the hotel of a woman, who I ID’d for him as Ayala, using a ticket to the gala to get into the ballroom. That’s when she set up the explosives beneath the dais, but did she and the doctor know Marten was going to show up?”

  “I think that was just icing on the cake for them. They planned to disrupt that fund-raiser one way or another, with or without de Becker there. Maybe Karam-Thomas’s hand was forced when de Becker showed up, and he sped up the time
line.”

  “I’m just glad you were suspicious of the doctor and kept an eye on him. I never would’ve guessed he’d be involved in trying to block a peace process in Syria.”

  “Why would you? The guy was smooth.”

  “And Marten got to make his announcement in public, just like he wanted.”

  “Clearing Major Denver of any involvement in that bombing, despite what Ayala claimed.”

  Hailey smoothed a thumb over the crease between his eyebrows. “Doesn’t that make you happy?”

  “It does, but Denver’s still out there. He has no way of knowing we’ve been slowly chipping away at the evidence against him. I just wish there were some way we could reach him. If he came in now, he might have a chance of completely clearing his name.”

  “The CIA and the army still believe he’s in league with a terrorist group, and Ayala’s statements before her death didn’t help matters.”

  “They do believe that, but now we’ll have a better idea of which group it is as the CIA and the FBI start to sort through Nabil’s connections. I did believe one part of Ayala’s admission before she ended her life.”

  “That we’d never understand their cause?”

  “No. That they have people in high places on their side.”

  “Those people will be exposed eventually.” Hailey slipped between Joe and the window and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. “Now it’s back to work for you, isn’t it?”

  “Once my leg heals.” He cupped her face with his hands. “Are you going to wait for me? Because I’m telling you right now, Hailey Duvall, I can’t live without you.”

  “Of course I’ll wait. I love you.” Turning her head to the side, she kissed his palm. “But if you think I’m going to be cooling my heels on a tennis court or sipping mimosas at brunch during your next deployment, you’ve got the wrong socialite, Red.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Where this time?”

  “I thought I’d play it safe and volunteer to build some homes in Guatemala.”